BREWSTER'S MILLIONS (1985)
Reviewed by Jerry Saravia
It is a shame that Richard Pryor never got the role that truly defined him (excepting "Jo Jo Dancer, Your Life is Calling"). Pryor was such a considerable talent who had his own defined persona that was a bit of an effrontery to the mass audience. Putting it plainly, like Whoopi Goldberg and occasionally Eddie Murphy, Pryor never quite fit in the affable, laid-back roles in safely conventional comedies. Though it has some wisecracks and one clever visual pun, "Brewster's Millions" is a serviceable comedy that could've had anyone in the title role. Since the filmmakers play it safe rather than exploiting their idea for what it is worth, they put in an actor who has far more potential than displayed here.
Pryor is Montgomery Brewster, a low-grade baseball player for the Hackensack Bulls. The team is so low-grade that railroad tracks cut across their field and, well, they have to stop a game if a train crosses. Brewster is seemingly a talented pitcher but his ambitions are rather low. His best friend is Spike (John Candy), an umpire who has no major ambitions either. That is until Brewster discovers he has a 300 million inheritance left by his rich grandfather (Hume Cronyn). The stipulations are that 30 million are to be spent in one month, and spent wisely with no assets and hire people only for their market value. If Brewster succeeds, he'll get the 300 million. Of course, spending 1 million a day is no easy task, no matter how many security guards, accountants or prostitutes you hire.
The problem is that such a premise can only work if it is built for numerous comic possibilities. Some are funny, including buying a rare stamp and using it for postage! I also enjoyed how exasperated Brewster gets in just giving money away on the first day. And I love how Stephen Collins, appearing as the wimpy villain who wants Brewster to fail, says how much Brewster is paying him: "Brewster is paying me a quarter of a million dollars!"
Unfortunately, the film dovetails and begins to take itself rather seriously. Thanks to his lovely accountant (Lonette McKee), Brewster tries to be responsible and mature and uses the money wisely. He even starts his own political campaign with the unfunny slogan, "None of the Above." And not a single smile was elicited from my face when we see an actual exhibition game held by Brewster between his team and the NY Yankees.
I don't hate "Brewster's Millions" and I like its message but I sense this is not the movie for Richard Pryor. Pryor holds back too much, as does John Candy. Here you have two actors who could've mined comic gold out of such old-fashioned material and they basically operate as automatons delivering their lines with the attitude of robots who have zero exuberance. And since there isn't much in the way of wit or even a belly laugh (though there are a few chuckles strewn throughout), I sat there stunned and emotionless. A comedy like this should be rapid-fire and full of energy (much like the 1945 version, which is one of seven different versions of this story), especially when it comes to the movie's conceit that anyone and anything can be bought. Brewster finds some initial joy in it and then becomes exceedingly remote and indifferent. This could've been a doozy of a role for Tom Hanks or even John Candy, but not for Richard Pryor.
